1.4 Now and Then

A still clear morning, a crispness in the air, an autumn day about to begin.  A celestial crescent leaves the sky, and the golden ball creeps up in replacement over the vast snowy range, firing rays through the mountain peaks; igniting them like a flame. Baby blue blankets hang high in silence, setting a panoramic view.

Closer in the distance, on the crown of the hill the undulating outline runs smooth although hazel and lifeless in colour, a contour of sculpted grass is now camouflaged by the delicate sheets of frost that has forged overnight. This expansiveness is enveloped by a patchwork of vibrant pastures with its hacking and canter track perimeter.  

A row of towering pines create a wall hiding what lay beyond them.  Their huge branches strong providing a fresh aroma of nordic pine, and homes to the birds who hum soft songs to accompany the slight nickers from the horses mouth. Needles lay in clusters and small cones dumped to the ground crackle underfoot, where the horses hooves deliberately dodge rabbit holes. 

Stretching up where your eyes are drawn and silhouetted by the picturesque and mountainous valleys beyond, loose gravel laneways are framed by livery yards and their rows of special conductive soft plastic coated wire. They are ready to zap the unexpected. Black in colour and clear to the eye, a perfect equine set up.  

Sweetest blades of green shoot quietly from the ground, standing upright frost-bitten and catching the light, casting a shimmer across the paddocks, a horses temptation. Sweet and juicy.  Dumps of warm fresh manure sit ready for picking, with daybreak here the daily chore of mucking out begins.

Hedges of Poplar boarder a unique kind of farmhouse, modern and low with wide eaves, common in Alpine regions. The timber is light; a slight rustic charm allowing the interior to be open and lively.  Long windows floor to ceiling take in the surroundings allowing an easy outlook of the breath taking natural landscape that stretches out to meet the edges of the world. 

Dogs barking are ready for the new day, new adventures. The noise progresses closer until such time the excitement cannot be contained, jumping, licking and playful abound. The horses look on and wait for their morning feeds. Their heavy winter rugs are removed, hung out to air and the warm sun penetrates upon their withers. They prepare themselves for a hack.

Riding down the long grassy verge the delightfulness feeling of the clean air tingles, indebted by the euphoria of escaping noises from the over-populated town, enjoying the lingering smells of grain and nuts; a soft warm muzzle against your face, what a refreshing and opportune life this is.  

As day falls to night, the evening sun casts longer shadows across the ground. Its a race to chase the sunset and then silhouettes emerge from the pitch black. Vidid stars cling to the dark velvet blanket and are music to the eyes, the darker the night the sweeter the song. Upon the twinkles a clear terrestrial, magnificent moon, its’ magnitude reflecting down, brittle and cold, illuminating upon the yards. Big eyes catch the light, and sleepily blink away the night. 

The air hangs cold, horses meander through the frost that has settled yet again, dragging their heavy feet behind them leaving perfect footprints on display for another day. Animals quiet down and rest their bodies to the sound of nothing.

Acres of meadow lay dead still in dark, the ever so slight breeze allows the strands of long grass to sway and aerate having a break from the heavy load of frost clumped on their backs. The fence post shadows cover the ground standing tall under the skies natural light. Which was once the noisy farmhouse is now left silent not a soul in sight it rests awaiting for people in the morning to come.

The farm is left undisturbed apart from the low murmur from the town echoing through the valley letting out a quiet poem of sounds. White twirls above the mountains take over the sky freckled with stars and the night is danced away.